I've Seen Your Face Before
by eponnia
Summary: Modern AU. Enjolras takes his girlfriend Éponine to meet the uncle who raised him after his parents died. The dinner gets awkward when she realizes his uncle is the police officer who had arrested her a few years before. [Established Enjonine with a complete crack!family relationship between Javert and Enjolras. 2012 film one-shot.]


**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is in no way affiliated with **_**My Father's Shadow**_** by fictionfrek101, taking no aspects from fictionfrek101's story. This story was created separately from MFS and the initial idea, plot, and characterization was inspired without any influence, previous or current, from MFS. **

**The headcanon of Javert-and-Enjolras-are-related is getting more popular, so I thought I'd take a crack at it myself. In my version, Javert is Enjolras' uncle, so the latter could keep his surname (contrary to popular belief, Enjolras is not a first name).**

* * *

She stared at him. "Excuse me?"

"I want you to meet my family," he repeated.

If Enjolras told her he had decided to run for the presidency she could not have been more shocked. "You want me to meet your family," Éponine repeated.

"Yes," her boyfriend replied. "I don't see any problems with-"

"Hold on," Éponine said, holding up a hand as a million thoughts whirled through her brain. "You don't get it, do you? Of course you don't. It would be impossible-"

"What wouldn't I understand?" Enjolras cut in, keeping his tone even.

She met his gaze. "Meeting family means we're serious."

"Well, I've been under the impression we are serious, as we've been living together for quite some time," Enjolras began, but she spoke.

"Why do you want _me_, of all people, to meet your family?"

"You're my girlfriend. Who else would I take?"

She looked at her hands folded in her lap. "I've never been asked, to do... this. I'm not exactly the girl you show off."

"Éponine-"

"One of my old boyfriends literally made me stay in his room for half an hour while his mother was at the door. They've all been ashamed of me-"

"But I'm not," Enjolras said, reaching a hand out and resting a hand on her knee. He pulled his chair closer to hers, taking one of her hands in both of his. "I will _never_ be ashamed of you. Do you believe me?" he asked, his piercing blue eyes searching hers. She bit her lip and nodded as he continued. "If you don't want to meet my family right now, that's fine-"

"Will it make you happy?" Éponine interjected.

"If you don't want to-"

"Will it?" she cut in, her voice serious.

"Yes, I suppose it would," he replied after a moment.

"Then I'll do it," Éponine said, lacing her fingers through his. "I'll do it for you."

He smiled at her.

* * *

"Are you sure I look alright?" she asked as she stepped from Enjolras' car in the driveway of his uncle's house. The twenty-year-old felt shallow and petty for asking, but didn't want her general aura to scream former criminal and gutter rat, as Enjolras had once mentioned his uncle was a police officer.

When they had first started dating, she learned that his parents had died in a car accident when he had been all of two years old. His mother's brother had been the closest of kin available to raise the orphan, but Enjolras revealed that growing up with the man was not easy. The nanny who truly raised him until he was twelve was kind enough, but his uncle was strict and ran his home like a military base. Politics were strictly taboo but resulted in legendary arguments, the most popular topic being their differing views of the government.

"You look beautiful," he responded to her question, and Éponine looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Are you feeling okay? Because that was kind of cheesy-"

"But it's true," Enjolras said, and Éponine averted her gaze. "Shall we?" he said after a moment, gesturing to the front door. She nodded, grateful her boyfriend wasn't going to start some heart-to-heart conversation right then and there in front of his uncle's house. Of course he wasn't in the habit of being lovey-dovey but now was not the time for him to try to increase her self-worth in her own eyes, as was his habit. But she didn't move away when he put a hand on the small of her back as they reached the door.

At Enjolras' knock, the door opened to reveal a tall, broad-shouldered man with a stern expression. Éponine knew she recognized him, his name on the tip of her tongue, and subconsciously drew herself to her full height, squaring her shoulders as the man spoke.

"You're late, Gabriel."

"There was some traffic," Enjolras replied. Éponine noticed his shoulders had tensed ever so slightly as she glanced at him. "This is my girlfriend, Éponine-"

"Jondrette," she finished, extending a hand. She knew from past experience that one could not be too careful around the police; true, she probably shouldn't be lying to her boyfriend's uncle, but he would throw her out on the street if he knew who her parents were. Thankfully, Enjolras said nothing to correct her.

"Philippe Javert," he replied, shaking her hand firmly before letting go. "Would you care to come in?"

Éponine arranged her features in her go-to default neutral expression as Enjolras said, "Of course." She hesitated for half a second before stepping over the threshold into the home of the man who had arrested her four years earlier.

* * *

_She tried everything she could think of, but Gavroche wouldn't stop coughing. Éponine contemplated taking him to a doctor, but decided to buy him medicine at the drugstore around the corner. But the sixteen-year-old failed to remember the incriminating stolen credit cards in her wallet, the same credit cards she was supposed to deliver for her father that night. If Gavroche had not developed a cough, she would have delivered the credit cards and never been caught. _

_Instructing her brother to stay in bed, she slipped out the door, pulling her coat around her in an attempt to block out the sharp wind that tugged at her dark hair. Avoiding the homeless man in the parking lot of the drugstore as he called out to her, she went inside the building. Only the thirty-something-year-old man with glasses working the night shift was in the store as she went to the end of the aisle, searching for the cough medicine. When she found it, however, her hand hovered over the bottle, feeling the employee's gaze resting on her. _

_Feeling her stomach drop, she reached into her jeans pocket for her wallet, and opened it to see her fear come true - she didn't have any cash to buy the medicine. A precaution against her parents, who had a habit of going through her wallet to take any money they could find, she normally didn't carry a large amount on her. She usually stashed it in a bag that she put inside her mattress - you could never be too careful - but they apparently had gone through her wallet while she was looking after Gavroche. _

_But then her gaze rested on the stolen credits cards. _

_Éponine hesitated, then pulled out the first credit card she saw in the slots of her wallet and went to the counter, refusing to let herself think about the possible ramifications of what she was doing. She met the employee's gaze briefly before looking away as he swiped the card through the machine. _

_"I need your signature, _mademoiselle_."_

_Maybe her parents didn't feel guilt, but Éponine nervously picked up the pen, realizing she had no idea what name she was supposed to sign. _

_She grabbed the bottle of medicine and ran for the door. _

_The sixteen-year-old managed to make it halfway down the block with the employee shouting behind her as he ran after her when a police car on patrol turned the corner. Immediately the car sped up and headed towards her, sirens blaring and lights flashing. _

_As the serious-looking police officer she recognized as Javert handcuffed her, the only thought running through Éponine's head was that Gavroche wouldn't get the medicine. _

_She spent ten months in jail. _

* * *

"Gabriel tells me you are a writer," Javert said as he speared the fish on his plate with his fork. Éponine had only had fish once before, and it had been nowhere near the quality of this. If she could have afforded to taste the comparison, she would have expected the meal Enjolras' uncle served to come out of a five-star restaurant.

"Yes, I am, but there's not a lot of revenue in it, so I work at a café to cover expenses," Éponine replied, feeling slightly uncomfortable under Javert's gaze but refused to show it, and found herself using the fanciest words she could think of to sound as educated and cultured as possible.

"She's being considered for manager," Enjolras added.

"It's not official yet," she said, slightly embarrassed at his compliment, and she looked back at Javert. "Enjolras mentioned you are a cop?" She bit her tongue, knowing that using the term _cop_ labeled her as lower class.

"Police officer, but yes," Javert replied, and Éponine colored in embarrassment.

"Did you make all this yourself?" Éponine blurted, wanting to bang her head on the mahogany table for sounding so casual.

"I have a cook who comes in four times a week."

"Oh," Éponine said lamely. Why hadn't she seen it before? With the large home, impressive food, hired help, and table settings with more cutlery than she saw the need for, it wasn't just that Javert - and, by extension, Enjolras - was not just well-off, but quite wealthy. _Loaded_, as Gavroche would say.

There was no possible way she could impress this man.

"How is your law practice going, Gabriel?" Javert asked his nephew. "Still helping those who can never pay you?"

Enjolras' jaw clenched ever so slightly. "I did not go into law for the money."

"But by giving your time to those who clearly are on the wrong side of the law for almost nothing, you lose on both accounts."

"The people I help are not 'on the wrong side of the law.' I only help those who I feel are being oppressed wrongfully. Just because I have a heart doesn't mean I'm not a good lawyer-"

"But you must admit helping the sob stories doesn't pay well."

"Enjolras is the most sought after lawyer in his firm," Éponine cut in. "He gets the most business out of any of his colleagues, because the people who come to him know he isn't doing it for the money, he's doing it for them. And that's more honorable than lining his pockets."

The table was silent for a moment, then Enjolras pushed back his chair. "Thank you for dinner, uncle," he said, standing, "but I think we'd better be going." Éponine stood quickly and turned, feeling Javert's gaze burning a hole in the back of her head, and she could practically feel his disappointment in his nephew's choice of a girlfriend.

This dinner really had not gone as she had hoped.

"Have a safe trip home, Gabriel," Javert said as they all stood by the door. Enjolras did not reply as he opened the door.

Éponine contemplated trying to make a graceful exit by complimenting her boyfriend's uncle on the food or his home, but decided against it. She didn't owe Javert anything; yes, he would probably look up her criminal record the second she left with Enjolras, but Javert couldn't force them apart.

Enjolras slammed the door behind them as they stepped onto the landing. Making their way down the walkway to his car through the perfect lawn with the perfect trees and the perfect fountain, he opened the passenger door for Éponine, slid into the driver's seat himself, and backed out of the driveway so quickly she thought he would drive into the yard of the house across the street.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," Enjolras said a few minutes into the drive.

"I've seen worse," Éponine replied. "There's a reason I don't want you to meet my parents."

There was another stretch of silence, but Éponine broke it, unable to keep her revelation from him. "Enjolras, there's something you should know. I didn't realize it before tonight, but I've met your uncle before." She drew in a breath.

"He arrested me four years ago."

Her boyfriend pulled to a stop at a red light and turned to look at her, his expression questioning but not shocked or accusatory.

"I was sixteen and living with my parents," Éponine said. "Gavroche was sick, so I went to the drugstore to get him medicine." She swallowed hard. "I had forgotten that my dad had given me all of his stolen credit cards to deliver, so I had them in my wallet when I left." She glanced at him, expecting him to be repulsed that she had helped in her father's crimes, but he inclined his head as a sign for her to continue.

"So, I went to the drugstore," she continued. "I hadn't realized my parents had gone through my wallet when I wasn't looking, so when I figured out-" She looked up. "The light's green."

Enjolras pulled into traffic, and Éponine went on. "So when I figured out I didn't have any cash, I tried to use one of the stolen credit cards. Then I panicked, ran out the door, and stole the medicine."

She slid down her seat. "Your uncle was on night patrol that night, I guess, because he turned the corner just as I was running down the street with the drugstore employee on my heels. Your uncle arrested me." Éponine let out a mirthless laugh. "He's probably looking me up as we speak, seeing my criminal record and who my parents are and that I lied to him. I knew he didn't like me at dinner, but he probably hates me now."

"So?" Enjolras said.

She turned to him, shocked. "So? I just told you that your uncle _arrested me_ and all you can say is _so_?"

"You didn't let me finish," he said, his calm demeanor contrasting her angry and mortified one. "You made a good point. He probably wasn't terribly impressed by you-"

"You can say that again," she muttered.

"But he's not exactly pleased with me, either," Enjolras continued. "Believe me, 'Ponine, he doesn't really approve of anything unless it's his choice. The fact of the matter is, I don't care." He reached out and rested his right hand on her knee, keeping his left hand on the steering wheel. "You're my choice, and I don't need his approval to be with you. I don't want it."

Éponine looked down at her lap and the hand of her boyfriend on her knee. "You're too good to me, you know that?" she said quietly.

"Actually, I disagree," Enjolras said, his hand moving to her thigh as they stopped at another red light. "You deserve even better than me, but I'm just trying to give you the best the world can offer."

Éponine reached out to cup his jaw in one hand and pulled him towards her, pressing her lips against his. The car behind them honked as the light turned green, and they pulled apart.

"You know I'm trying to drive, right?" he asked as he pulled the car into the intersection.

"A little distraction never hurt anyone," she said with a smile. As he looked at her, she pointed straight ahead. "Eyes on the road, Enjolras."


End file.
